


The Reunion

by IckleRonnikens



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24982189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IckleRonnikens/pseuds/IckleRonnikens
Summary: Harry Potter is turning forty soon, he has very little to show for his mediocre life, and when he runs into the girl that could have been at his Highschool Reunion, he has an epiphany that just maybe, it’s not too late for him. Harmony AU.Inspired by Psych – Season 3 Episode 2
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	The Reunion

Harry Potter caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the glass windows that lined the entrance hall of his old high school. As he straightened his tie, he couldn’t help but notice the questionable look he was giving himself, of having willingly come to yet another silly reunion. He would be turning forty soon, and what did he have to show for his life, other than some dead-end job, a commonly small apartment and a motorcycle, the only means of transport he had, that was handed down to him by his Godfather.

He wasn’t married, he didn’t have any kids, and his string of relationships over the years had always been doomed before they’d even started. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get hitched, it was more the fact that the right person just hadn’t come along yet.

The only good, constant relationship that he had in his life, and ever since he was young, was his best friend Ron Weasley. They had been inseparable ever since their primary school days, and even though he didn’t want to admit it, they were perhaps a little _too_ close. This was because Ron struggled to let go of the past. Ever since they graduated in 1997, Ron still had the same haircut, the same fashion sense, the same car and the same interests as he had back then.

Tonight’s reunion was like a shot in the arm for him.

It refuelled his desire for the past, to hang on to that little piece of him inside that was still a seventeen-year-old. He had organised the whole event after all. He did so every few years, perhaps not so much to catch up with the old gang, but to relive the stories of his years in the corridors of Hogwarts High, over and over again.

Ron chose that moment to come strolling out of the assembly hall, dressed in his favourite nineties outfit. It was a lagoon-blue suit, with the unconstructed two-button blazer and trousers with double-reverse front pleats. Underneath he had on a black silk t-shirt, which was tucked neatly into the thin leather belt around his waist.

‘You’re late,’ he said bitterly, ticking Harry’s name on the clipboard in his hands and reaching for a button with Harry’s name on the trestle table lined with information.

Harry looked his best mate up and down and suppressed a laugh. ‘I thought your mother threw that out on her last visit?’

‘She did,’ Ron said, shoving the button into Harry’s hands, ‘but I retrieved it.’

‘Why would you bother?’ Harry shook his head and pinned his name to his chest. ‘Why must you drag me to these things every year, anyway?’

‘It’s not like you had anything else better to do,’ Ron said, inspecting some pamphlets on the table in front of them.

‘That’s not true. I was going to watch my football team lose,’ Harry said defensively.

‘Let me guess. Another West Ham tragic?’ came a voice to their left, making them spin round.

A man with a pale complexion and sleek blonde stood there grinning at them with a brilliantly white smile. He was wearing a casual button up shirt and tie, and jeans, but over the top he was wearing a blue and maroon bomber jacket that had the name of their school imprinted on the front in bold white letters. Draco Malfoy looked like he lived in the past too, he still wore his championship ring and pin, which were shining off his hand and chest respectively. Hanging off his arm, as always, was Pansy Parkinson, a pale woman who wore a glittery purple dress. She was still rather pretty, but an otherwise foul human being, who Harry distinctly remembered being dismissive towards through all of high school.

‘Hello Draco,’ Ron said promptly, automatically reaching for his button on the table.

‘Hello Weasley,’ Draco said, accepting the nametag and pinning it to his chest, before turning back to Harry. ‘So, you think we’ll finish higher than ninth this year, Potter?’

‘I hope so,’ Harry said, before Draco sniggered at him and went on his way. ‘What’s with the blazer?’

‘You mean the football jumper?’ Ron asked, raising his eyebrows at Harry who nodded. ‘Everyone on the team got one of those in our senior year—’

‘We had a football team?’ Harry asked in disbelief.

‘Yes, of course, they played every Saturday, remember?’ Ron said, marking some names off his clipboard. ‘Our senior team was pretty good, actually. Have you forgotten everything about high school?’

‘Not everything,’ Harry said, making Ron look up, ‘I definitely remember her.’

A woman had just walked into the entrance hall and sucked the air out of the room. She wore a light red flowery dress that fell past her knees, her bushy brown hair had been pushed behind her ears with butterfly clips and she carried a small dark purse that matched her high-heeled shoes.

‘Oh yeah,’ Ron said after he’d seen who Harry was looking at. He reached for a button on the table and handing it to him, ‘you should go say hello.’

Harry glance sideways at the smirk on his friend’s face. He knew what that look meant. Harry had spent the best part of their senior year, hiding amongst the bookshelves of the library, attempting to pluck up the courage to ask the girl out. Harry grabbed the button from him and wandered over to her. She had her back to him and was looking at some informational posters about the evening.

‘Hermione Granger.’

Hermione turned around suddenly. Her mouth opened slightly when she saw who it was, then her eyebrows rose curiously, and then she smiled.

‘Harry Potter,’ she said with gratification, looking him up and down.

‘I have your button,’ Harry said, it was the only intelligent thing he could come up with as he held it out for her to take.

She blinked down at it and then took it before looking back up at him. ‘Thanks.’

As she pinned it to her front, Harry spotted the necklace she had on. It was a sparkling silvery colour, and it had the letters “HG” as the pendant. It took Harry a second to realise what it must have looked like, him staring down the front of her dress, so he looked away as quickly as he could towards the gymnasium, hoping she wouldn’t catch him at it.

‘So…’ Hermione said awkwardly, biting her lip and staring at him.

‘Yeah… so…’ said Harry equally awkwardly, putting his hands in his pockets and shrugging, ‘how are you—?’

‘Harry,’ Ron appeared at his best friends’ elbow from nowhere, he paused when he spotted Hermione and he inclined his head. ‘Hello Hermione—’

‘Err, hi,’ Hermione said, smiling nervously.

‘I need you to go and grab another stack of folding chairs for me,’ Ron said assertively, after facing Harry again and turning his back on Hermione, ‘we’re already short.’

‘Right,’ Harry said nodding confidently, ‘where from?’

‘If you can’t find any more in any of the classrooms,’ Ron said impatiently, ‘then go to the library. There’s some there.’

‘All right,’ Harry said, and just before Ron turned on his heel to leave, he added, ‘I do have just one question though,’ he said, making Ron turn and raise his eyebrows at him, ‘where’s the library?’

Ron rolled his eyes. ‘Did you even attend this school?’

‘Sure, I did… I think—’

‘Just grab the chairs,’ Ron said, before beginning to walk away.

‘You’re not even going to tell me where the library is?’ Harry called out in frustration.

Ron stopped about five metres away, turned, looked at his best friend angrily, and then spotted Hermione.

‘Hermione, could you help him please?’ Ron asked, gesturing to the bushy haired brunette. ‘He’s useless.’

‘Oh, okay,’ Hermione said, blinking at Ron who quickly disappeared into the crowd.

Harry looked down expectantly at her. ‘You don’t have to.’

Hermione hesitated. ‘No, it’s fine— it’s been a while since I’ve been to the library, but I think I remember the way.’

Away from the entrance hall, and the gymnasium, the rest of the school was much quieter. Their footsteps echoed off the brick walls as they took a stroll down memory lane, through the familiar hallways that were once theirs to roam. Harry was rather reminiscent when they stumbled upon his old locker, which had been repainted at least twice since he had been there.

He kept making comments about the classrooms he frequented back in the day and telling short anecdotes about each one of them. Hermione continued to smile through each one of them along the way, but her mind seemed to be occupied with other thoughts, and despite the fact that it took him longer than it should, Harry did notice this.

‘Is something wrong?’ Harry asked fearfully, hoping the answer to that question wasn’t him.

‘No,’ Hermione said immediately, but she did look away when he tried to meet eyes with her.

Conversation eased, and after they’d finished sweeping all the classrooms for chairs and coming up short, they began heading for the library. Harry was trying to think of something to say the entire way there, but ultimately, came up with nothing. They had to find the light switch in the darkness, but as soon as the library was illuminated, all the memories once again came flooding back.

‘Unbelievable,’ Harry said, shaking his head and wandering over to the rows of bookcases, ‘the layout of this place hasn’t changed a bit—’

Harry stopped talking, because he had looked back at Hermione, and saw her standing there with her arms crossed, staring at him intently.

‘What?’ he asked after a pause.

‘You really don’t remember what happened here, do you?’ Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

Harry looked at her funny. ‘Something happened?’

‘Six years we attended this school,’ Hermione said, slowly moving amongst the tables. ‘For five of them, I sat peacefully in this library reading books and doing homework. Then, in our last year, suddenly I had this person hiding in the stacks, staring at me all the time, attempting to blend in, or randomly asking me questions about France—’

‘Who?’ Harry asked stupidly, suspecting he might know the answer.

‘You know who,’ she said carefully, watching him as he turned to the bookcases, looking for an excuse.

‘Well, I knew French was one of your electives, so—’ Harry tried to say defensively, but Hermione gave him the look that suggested she was having none of it.

‘Then, Harry, when you finally plucked up the courage to ask me out,’ Hermione said slowly, ‘you never showed up.’

‘I err— here’s the thing,’ Harry said, putting a finger up, ‘not many people know this, but I was a crippling alcoholic in my last year of high school. I barely remember any of it. So, what must have happened was, I asked you out, but forgot I’d asked you, and so that’s why I never showed up—’

‘Or called me?’

If Hermione raised her eyebrows any higher, they would have disappeared up into her bushy hair.

‘It’s okay, Harry, just forget about it,’ she said, pointing to the chairs in the corner, ‘let’s just get back, all right?’

Harry didn’t know what else to say other than to agree. It was quite a painfully silent walk back to the gymnasium, there were no more anecdotes for Harry to come up with, or comments about certain parts of the school. They handed their stacks of chairs over to Ron and then parted ways.

‘Bowled out again, are you mate?’ Ron asked sideways to Harry, as they watched Hermione disappear into the crowd.

‘Quiet,’ Harry said miserably, crossing him arms. ‘Don’t you have a reunion to run?’

‘Yeah, all right,’ Ron said with a laugh, walking off with the chairs.

Harry sighed. He was continuing to look across the room at Hermione, who had found her small circle of high school friends and were hugging them. Harry looked down at the table in front of him and spotted the punch bowel. Not really thinking, he took two glasses, filled them up and then made his way across the room with them.

As he approached Hermione, he saw that she had disengaged from her group of friends again and was near the stage of the gymnasium, writing out a ballot for the school reunion _King and Queen_. He cleared his throat when he was close enough, making her look up from what she was doing and spot him standing there, stupidly, holding two glasses.

‘What’s this?’ she asked casually, giving him a smirk. ‘Is this your way of giving some sort of peace offering? A glass of punch?’

‘Oh,’ Harry looked down at his hands, ‘no, actually, these are both for me.’

Hermione watched him curiously as Harry casually took a sip from both of the cups in turn.

‘Did you want me to grab you one?’ he asked, taking another sip before she answered.

‘No, it’s fine,’ she said, her smirk had turned into a half-smile before she returned to filling out the ballot papers. ‘Is there something you wanted, Harry?’

Harry hesitated in answering. If he was being honest, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He had hoped his natural charm would break the ice, and he’d be able to come up with a line of conversation immediately afterwards, but he was coming up short.

‘Well,’ Harry said, looking around aimlessly for inspiration, ‘I was just wondering— I mean, I don’t understand but, is there something wrong with you?’

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and laughed. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh, no,’ Harry said hesitantly, taking a half-step back, ‘I didn’t mean— I just meant, I couldn’t help but notice you’re not married. I was just wondering why that was?’

Hermione was giving him a funny look. But it was unclear whether it was the face of someone who was offended or quite amused.

‘There's no question of why I’m not married,’ Hermione said firmly, ‘I know why.’

‘Well, why?’ Harry asked curiously. ‘You seem perfect—’

‘I’ll get married, someday, I’m sure of it,’ she said, pushing a strain of hair behind her ears, ‘I just— haven’t met him yet.’

‘If it’s any consolation,’ Harry said, nodding, ‘I think you will.’

‘What about you?’ she asked of him expectantly, raising her eyebrows.

‘I don’t know,’ Harry said with a shrug, ‘I guess, I never had anything serious enough to consider that.’

She continued to smile at him. After a long pause, in which she sealed up her ballot paper by licking the envelope, and putting it into the box by the stage, she grabbed one of the glasses of punch from his hand and took a sip.

‘Thanks for the drink,’ she said casually before passing him, ‘and good luck with that.’

She returned to her group of friends, hoping that if he was outnumbered, Harry was unlikely to follow. But he didn’t plan to. He took a sip of his drink and headed out the side door of the gymnasium and into the hallway beyond, where he saw Ron standing around with a group of nerds that he and Harry used to occasionally play Dungeons and Dragons with.

‘The Wizard!’ Neville Longbottom said, spotting Harry as he wandered over. ‘My man!’

‘How’s it going guys?’ Harry asked, as they all took turns shaking his hand, excluding Ron of course.

‘We we’re just discussing the good old times,’ Ron explained, getting a nod from the others, ‘and the Friday night’s we used to conquer—’

‘Except we didn’t all keep our costumes like you, Weasley,’ said Ernie Macmillan, forcing a combined laughter from the group.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Ron said shaking his head, ‘we were also talking about all the bad times— you know, how we all had our problems with the opposite sex—’

‘Pfft, women,’ said Neville, shaking his head, ‘absolutely nothing but heartache, man.’

‘All they want is a ring, mate,’ said Terry Boot in agreement, ‘and they will stop at nothing just to get their damn ring.’

‘I agree,’ Ron said wholeheartedly, ‘couldn’t have said it better myself— sometimes, they are just not worth it.’

‘Exactly,’ said Neville, ‘don’t you agree, Harry?’

‘What?’ Harry looked around at the expectant faces blinking at him. ‘Oh, yeah, sure.’

‘Dude, you guys are just like us,’ said Ernie, patting Harry on the shoulder, ‘marginally employed, single, never been married— you guys get it.’

‘Well, we can’t all be Draco Malfoy,’ Ron said with a shrug, ‘rich, popular, married to a pretty girl—’

‘Damn that guy,’ Neville said dismissively, punching his hand, ‘I’d love to see him get his own back someday. He terrorised me endlessly in high school.’

‘They build a shrine for him because he can kick a football?’ Ernie said in disbelief. ‘Who cares?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Hey, why don’t they build a shrine to my butt!’ said Terry, making the whole group laugh.

Harry wasn’t.

The discussion about women, and how others had made the leap into marriage, whilst he spent his mediocre life in limbo had an affect on him. He left Ron and the Friday night crew to wallow in self-pity and returned to the reunion. It was nearing the end of the night, a _King and Queen_ would be named soon, and then everyone would be returning to their miserable lives, until they would likely meet again in another ten years.

Harry couldn’t wait another ten years.

He got up on his tippy-toes, searching the room for bushy-brown hair. He eventually spotted her somewhere in the middle, standing all alone, swaying to the music. He smiled, plucked up the courage by swigging the glass of punch and slamming it down, and then made his way over to her. It was like she could sense him coming, because before he’d got within a metre of her, she turned on the spot and saw him approaching.

‘Hi,’ Harry said nervously, when she had smiled at him.

‘Hi,’ she said brightly, raising her eyebrows at him expectantly.

‘I have a bit of a confession to make,’ Harry said seriously, taking a deep breath.

‘It’s all right, I get it now,’ she said quickly, stopping him in his tracks, ‘you and Ron Weasley are dating, aren’t you? You guys are together.’

Harry opened his eyes wide in disbelief.

‘What?’ he said in shock.

‘It makes sense,’ Hermione went on, ‘I mean, how else would you two still be so close after all these years? I think it’s kind of cute, actually—’

‘We are not dating,’ Harry said defensively, putting a hand up, ‘I’m the dirtbag who slept with his sister, do you think he’s going to date me?’

‘So, that’s what you’re confessing?’ Hermione asked curiously, a small smile on her face now. ‘You slept with Ron’s sister?’

‘No,’ Harry said, before looking up quickly, ‘hell no. That ship has long since sailed. We don’t talk about that anymore, and besides, she’s married, and we get on great as friends—’

‘Harry—’

‘Right, the admission,’ Harry said, taking a deep breath, ‘here’s the thing, Hermione, I know that you think that I didn’t show up that night when I was supposed to meet you at the carnival. But the truth of the matter is, I did. I did show up.’

Hermione gave him an inquisitive look, but he continued before she could speak.

‘I remember, vividly, that you were standing at the end of the pier,’ he went only slowly, ‘you were wearing a turquoise polka dot baby doll dress and a pair of dark button-strap sandals. You had a row of butterfly clips in your hair and you were wearing your short jean jacket with the ripped right pocket because you always used to shove your fist in there when you got nervous.’

‘That’s right,’ Hermione said in shock, ‘I still do that—’

‘I also remember you were pacing back and forth that night,’ Harry said quickly, desperate to continue his story, ‘you waited around almost an hour before you walked away,’ he pulled something from his pocket, ‘these are our tickets to the carnival. I saved them. I still keep them in my wallet—’

‘Harry,’ Hermione said slowly, taking a step towards him, ‘why didn’t you say something sooner?’

‘I was unbearably nervous,’ Harry said truthfully, looking down, ‘I got cold feet, which I didn’t understand, because that hardly ever happens to me. I think what it was though Hermione, is that I liked you too much. Way too much.’

He looked up at her and saw, to his astonishment, that she was blushing at these words.

‘I was so young back then, I didn’t know what it meant,’ Harry said quietly, ‘but then tonight, when I saw you, it reignited something in the pit of my stomach. All I’ve been able to think about since our conversation earlier, is what could have been, if that night was even slightly different. What would my life be like now? What would be different if I hadn’t let you walk away?

‘But I’m not going to let that happen again,’ said Harry, and at this point, Hermione has a tear in her eye, ‘it’s a chance to make a different choice, and you’re really amazing, and I know we can’t go back in time, but I do wish there was some way that we—’

Harry didn’t get to finish his ramblings. Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes, took him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was pretty brief and innocent. It felt more like a kiss that was twenty years overdue rather than a kiss that would start a twenty-year relationship. It wasn’t one of those moments that stopped time or blurred the lines of the room, it was just a moment, one that needed to be done and given closure to the past that could have been.

Then the kiss was over.

‘That was— nice,’ Harry said after a slight pause between them.

‘That _was_ nice,’ Hermione said in agreement.

They looked around and noticed the atmosphere of the room had changed. They hadn’t even realised that the music had stopped. Everyone had turned to look in their direction and now every single eye was fixated upon them.

‘Everyone’s looking at us,’ she whispered at him, biting her lip.

‘They’re just jealous,’ he said firmly, ‘I got to kiss the prettiest girl in the room, and they did not.’

Hermione gave him a soft laugh as the music started back up again and people returned to dancing.

‘So,’ Hermione said nervously, ‘where to from here?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Harry, ‘you kissed me, remember?’

Hermione smiled and took his hand. ‘Perhaps I’ll see you at the next reunion? Whenever that is?’

‘Oh,’ Harry hesitated, and then eventually nodded, ‘okay.’

‘Bye, Harry,’ Hermione said, she squeezed his hand, smiled and then she let it go, turned, and made her way to the exit.

Harry didn’t know how long he stood there for. He was trying to process what had just happened. The combination of his speech, of the kiss, of the following compliments he’d made. He was sure he had made his intentions abundantly clear, but was it not enough? Or did she just reject him? Surely, she couldn’t have. And even if she had, he couldn’t just let her go, at least, not without knowing for sure.

Harry rushed from the room and scanned the entrance hall for a sign of her. The front doors to the school had just closed, he lunged forwards in a rush, his speed not what it once was, and when he pushed open the doors and entered into the cold air, he spotted her, halfway down the footpath towards the street.

Hermione had turned towards the source of the noise and when she saw Harry approaching her again, she automatically smiled.

‘Harry?’

‘I can’t let you go,’ he said breathlessly, helplessly, hopelessly, ‘not again—’

‘Harry, I—’

‘I’m turning forty soon,’ he said quickly, he was going to try really hard to stop her from saying no. ‘I’ll probably be thrown some silly little party by Ron and his family. It would be such a better birthday if you attended, also.’

Hermione blinked at him. She hesitated, for a briefly moment there was uncertainty on her face, but then she was reaching for her purse, and pulling something from it. It was pen and paper, she wrote something down and then moved to him, holding it out for him to take.

‘Here,’ she said, getting really close to him, ‘I’ll be home tomorrow. You can tell me the details then. Maybe I’ll get you a present—’

She reached up on her tippy toes to peck his cheek briefly before she turned and went off again.

‘I like chocolate.’

She gave him an amused look over her shoulder before disappearing into the night.


End file.
